A piece I composed for my graduate school portfolio. Performed by David Koch. It was inspired by the idea of a rainstorm, beginning sporadically, growing into a constant stream of notes and gradually tapering off.

Rainstorm

This is a fairly recent piece I wrote for piano trio. I was attempting to evoke many of the (often conflicting) feelings I associate with flying (detached calm, heart-pounding terror, giddy excitement and an overwhelming sense of awe and majesty).

The Aviator

With House of Mirrors, my intent was to musically depict a madman pursuing an unsuspecting visitor through the carnival attraction for which the piece is named. Throughout the work, various instruments take on the role of either character. The flute and clarinet typically embody the visitor through a whimsically carefree melody. In contrast with this, the strings and piano present sinister, deranged lines, portraying the madman. The piece takes the form of several episodes, each juxtaposing and transforming the two themes in order to depict—almost cinematically—the unsettling story.

House of Mirrors

The first of two songs for voice and piano, on a text by William Wordsworth.

Days Are for Dreaming: I. Most Sweet It Is...

The second of two songs for baritone and piano, on a text by William Blake.

Days Are for Dreaming: II. Memory, Hither Come...

The first of four short character pieces for piano.

Meanderings: I. The Tipsy Ambler

The second of four short character pieces for piano.

Meanderings: II. November

The third of four short character pieces for piano.

Meanderings: III. Retrospect

The fourth of four short character pieces for piano.

Meanderings: IV. Blue Sky Divine

I had the initial idea for "Smaoineamh agus cuimhne"—Irish for "Thought and Memory"—while traveling with my family in Ireland. One morning, I overheard a street musician playing a folk song I didn’t recognize. Later, however, I could remember only a fragment, a fragment I wasn’t even certain was accurate. This led me to think about the effect of memory on folk songs, the hazy indeterminacy of trying to recall a song half-heard. Being in Ireland, surrounded by more familiar traditional Irish music, also brought to mind the way in which intimately known songs can take up residence in one’s head, playing themselves over and over. The piece took shape as I picked Irish folk tunes out of my memory, setting them in blurry juxtapositions and tying them together with one tune in particular, “The Hills of Connemara,” which seemed to be on a constant loop in my mind. I ended the piece with increasingly indistinct repetitions of the folk song fragment that had initially sparked my creative instinct.

Eamon Carmody